Cindi
05-06-2009, 09:58 AM
Well ... hell. Never been here, can't say I've missed much. Got here yesterday via plane. My SIL and future BIL came here in an RV, so there is no car--they picked me up in a cab.
They went to their honeymooon hotel room about 9 pm so I came on back to the RV (KOA Circus Circus) as I was tired and sleepy. I must have gone to sleep right away, because I woke up at 4:30 wanting coffee in the worst way. There was none in the RV, so what else could I do? I unhooked the damned thing and off I went in search of a McD's.
I ended up on Industrial Blvd, a woman on a mission, in a nightgown ... in an RV, never drove one before, but it seemed simple enough.
Ind. Blvd turned out to be one gentleman's club after another, so I turned it around and headed back the other way, and then there they were, as joyous a beacon in the night as the North star ... the golden arches.
I pull in and quickly and regrettably surmise that the RV, although it is relatively small, will not go through the drive through and I briefly bemoan the fact that I struck out in my nightgown. I made the decision that the nightgown is probably much more modest than most folks see around here, so I decide to go for it. Besides the place was deserted and the nightgown is of the mumu variety.
I soon find out why the place is deserted; it's closed. At least the walk through is. A woman behind the glass where the coffee was being held hostage, held up 5 fingers.
"5 minutes?" I mutter through the glass.
She nods.
I nod back and go and climb back in the RV. By now another alarming development has arisen. My body is on a fairly strict schedule. My schedule kicked in and my digestive track informed me that attention need be paid to a particular chore that happens only once a day, but with startling regularity.
I glance at the clock--4 minutes left to go, and I was never so sure of anything in my life as I was the fact that I did not have 4 minutes to spare. Then it dawns on me that I am sitting in a rolling house, complete with facilities, and without another thought, I bolt for the back of the RV.
I have added a new first to my personal milestones list, and I'm not proud of it, but any port in a storm as they say.
So, at least five minutes have passed by now, and I return to the door, only to be told by the woman that she "meant 5 o'clock, not 5 minutes!" and I immediately stopped feeling bad about my choice to utilize the meager services that were available to me.
At 3 minutes to 5, a man of at least 104 years of age, and dressed in a crisp McD's uniform, scraped his way to the RV and demanded that I move it to make room for a delivery truck. Just 3 words shy of breaking into tears, I inform him that if he'd get me some damned coffee I'd move it for good and all.
"I can't do that, you have to wait for the girl who works here."
"When does she get here?"
"Any minute."
"When does the delivery truck get here?"
"About 30 minutes."
I pause and gaze at him as he turns red as a beet.
"I'm not seeing a conflict here. I wasn't planning on camping out for the day. Just want my coffee ... maybe a McGriddle."
About that time the girl who worked there was dropped off in a beat-up Chevy truck, sans muffler, and I became her shadow as I followed her inside to the counter. She never blinked once at my choice of attire and I suspected that I was right; she'd probably seen much worse.
I got my coffee, high tailed it back to the RV park, parked, hooked up, and here I am now talking to you. It is my summation that the highlight of this trip, will be the drive back to Texas in the RV with a stop at the Grand Canyon.
As for Vegas, I have lost nothing here, but have gained at least one new experience aside from driving an RV for the first time, and that is that I have never dropped trou in a McD's parking lot, either in or out of an RV, and I doubt that I will soon forget it.
They went to their honeymooon hotel room about 9 pm so I came on back to the RV (KOA Circus Circus) as I was tired and sleepy. I must have gone to sleep right away, because I woke up at 4:30 wanting coffee in the worst way. There was none in the RV, so what else could I do? I unhooked the damned thing and off I went in search of a McD's.
I ended up on Industrial Blvd, a woman on a mission, in a nightgown ... in an RV, never drove one before, but it seemed simple enough.
Ind. Blvd turned out to be one gentleman's club after another, so I turned it around and headed back the other way, and then there they were, as joyous a beacon in the night as the North star ... the golden arches.
I pull in and quickly and regrettably surmise that the RV, although it is relatively small, will not go through the drive through and I briefly bemoan the fact that I struck out in my nightgown. I made the decision that the nightgown is probably much more modest than most folks see around here, so I decide to go for it. Besides the place was deserted and the nightgown is of the mumu variety.
I soon find out why the place is deserted; it's closed. At least the walk through is. A woman behind the glass where the coffee was being held hostage, held up 5 fingers.
"5 minutes?" I mutter through the glass.
She nods.
I nod back and go and climb back in the RV. By now another alarming development has arisen. My body is on a fairly strict schedule. My schedule kicked in and my digestive track informed me that attention need be paid to a particular chore that happens only once a day, but with startling regularity.
I glance at the clock--4 minutes left to go, and I was never so sure of anything in my life as I was the fact that I did not have 4 minutes to spare. Then it dawns on me that I am sitting in a rolling house, complete with facilities, and without another thought, I bolt for the back of the RV.
I have added a new first to my personal milestones list, and I'm not proud of it, but any port in a storm as they say.
So, at least five minutes have passed by now, and I return to the door, only to be told by the woman that she "meant 5 o'clock, not 5 minutes!" and I immediately stopped feeling bad about my choice to utilize the meager services that were available to me.
At 3 minutes to 5, a man of at least 104 years of age, and dressed in a crisp McD's uniform, scraped his way to the RV and demanded that I move it to make room for a delivery truck. Just 3 words shy of breaking into tears, I inform him that if he'd get me some damned coffee I'd move it for good and all.
"I can't do that, you have to wait for the girl who works here."
"When does she get here?"
"Any minute."
"When does the delivery truck get here?"
"About 30 minutes."
I pause and gaze at him as he turns red as a beet.
"I'm not seeing a conflict here. I wasn't planning on camping out for the day. Just want my coffee ... maybe a McGriddle."
About that time the girl who worked there was dropped off in a beat-up Chevy truck, sans muffler, and I became her shadow as I followed her inside to the counter. She never blinked once at my choice of attire and I suspected that I was right; she'd probably seen much worse.
I got my coffee, high tailed it back to the RV park, parked, hooked up, and here I am now talking to you. It is my summation that the highlight of this trip, will be the drive back to Texas in the RV with a stop at the Grand Canyon.
As for Vegas, I have lost nothing here, but have gained at least one new experience aside from driving an RV for the first time, and that is that I have never dropped trou in a McD's parking lot, either in or out of an RV, and I doubt that I will soon forget it.